Draco Angor
by BlackNightNyx
Summary: Draco sees his mother die right before his eyes, and then finds out that he has to room with 'The Trio' at 12 Grimmauld Place. Oh what joys this will bring...Rated for slight language, blood, and death.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:…What can I say? Read it, love it, review it.  
  
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Disclaimer: Okay, this is the only one I'm putting up, so listen carefully: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!!! If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fictions, now would I?  
  
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Draco Angor  
  
Chapter 1  
  
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"Mister Malfoy, I must ask that you get cleaned up--"  
  
"Can I see my mother or not?"  
  
I cut Healer Pyre off and rose from my place on the floor next to my mothers hospital room at St. Mungos. I glanced down at the place where I was sitting and saw a small puddle of blood. There was even a smear of blood on the wall where I had rested my back.  
  
Healer Pyre sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Mister Malfoy…"  
  
"Yes or no?" I growled, trying to keep myself from punching the Healer as hard as I could in places I shouldn't.  
  
"Mister Malfoy, you must listen to me!" The Healer said sternly, crossing his arms, "Your mother will die, and most likely within the next few hours."  
  
I froze, my hands and feet automatically losing feeling. I stared at him, hoping I had just heard him wrong, hoping that the one person left alive that really loved me wasn't going to die in just a few hours…  
  
"Can I go see her?" I asked, my voice not betraying the utter distress that was ripping me apart on the inside.  
  
Healer Pyre sighed and nodded, moving to the side so I could walk inside the small room and see my dying mother.  
  
The room itself was an insult to my mood. It was painted a bright white that seemed to glow in the bright white lights. Everything looked bright and…clean. Against the back wall was a small white bed, and in that bed, was my mother. I felt a sob climbing up my throat as I caught site of her. She was so pale she seemed nearly blue. Hell, her lips -were- blue. Dark purple circles were clearly visible under her eyes. They seemed to melt with the bruises that Lucius had marred her once-beautiful face with. Actually, the bruises on her face seemed like nothing next to the huge gashes covering her arms, abdomen, and legs. That was probably the reason for her death…blood-loss. Most of the blood on me was from her. Even magic can't replace blood that quickly, and Mother was losing it fast. Even the bandages that had been put on her no more than an hour ago were already pink with blood.  
  
I walked forward until I was next to the bed and stared down at the pained face of my mother. Even in her sleep she couldn't find rest….I reached down and grabbed her hand, smothering the tiny thing in my own. I held it up and pressed it against my chest, trying to purge the coldness from it. I tilted my head down slightly and kissed the back of her hand, before I pressed it against my warm cheek. She awoke when I did so and looked up at me with warm blue eyes, so full of life although she was so close to death….  
  
"Mother," I said, trying to smile for her.  
  
"Draco…" She replied, her voice rough and her breath ragged, "My son…"  
  
I crawled up into the bed next to my mother and buried my head in her shoulder, no easy feat seeing as how I'm over a foot taller than her. She reached up with her free hand and began to stroke my blood-stained hair.  
  
"My son…" My mother repeated. I turned my head upwards and looked into her eyes.  
  
"Mother…" I said softly, "The Healer…he said…"  
  
I swallowed hard.  
  
"He said you only have a few hours the live, Mother."  
  
My mother smiled softly and tilted her head upwards.  
  
"The Healer…lied…" She said.   
  
I felt myself relax. Of course he did. Of course she wasn't going to die! Damn healers were wrong about everything….  
  
"I…believe…I only…have…a few…minutes…at most…"  
  
My world shattered for the third time that day. I looked up at her and our eyes met. I could tell she wasn't lying. I felt the tears falling before I was even aware of crying.  
  
"Shhh…" Mother whispered, "Don't…cry for me…Draco…"  
  
"Don't leave me…" I whispered back, burying my face in the groove of her shoulder again.  
  
"I must tell you…before I die…" She whispered into my hair, "Lucius…he wasn't…he wasn't your real father…"  
  
I looked up, the tears stopping almost immediately when I heard this news.  
  
"What?" I asked unbelievingly. Not that I was disappointed. I really didn't want to be related to that bastard, but it was still an ultimate shock.  
  
"He's…he's your uncle…" She whispered, her voice seemed to get fainter, "Your…your real father…was Damion…"  
  
Uncle Damion….Or should I start calling her father now? Well, actually, neither would work. Now the only thing I can call him is dead. The Dark Lord had seen to that two years ago in my sixth year.  
  
"I…I…love you…Draco…" My mother said, her voice just above a whisper.  
  
"I love you , too…" I sat up, looking down at the frail woman in front of me, "Mother…"  
  
She took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. And, with that….She was gone.  
  
I closed her eyes and kissed her forehead one last time before I got up and left the room.  
  
"Is she…?" Healer Pyre asked as I left the room. I nodded and shoved past him, walking quickly down the hall.  
  
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" Healer Pyre yelled down the hall at me, "Any family or anything?"  
  
I stopped and turned around, looking at him with a cold look on my face.  
  
"I -have- no family. I'll sleep in the streets. I don't give a damn. I really don't."  
  
Healer Pyre looked at me with a sorry look on his face and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get it out I turned and started walking down the hall at an even quicker pace than before.  
  
As I walked, the sound of blood pounding in my ears seemed to grow in volume until it was an echo, repeating the same word over, and over, and over…  
  
Dead…dead…dead…dead…DEAD…DEAD…  
  
I pressed my hands firmly over my ears and tried to drown out the infernal pounding, but it only increased the sound. The feeling of someone ripping my heart out of my chest and setting it on fire didn't help. Eventually, the sadness and the hatred for everything Lucius had taken away from me began to be the only thing I felt, and the feeling grew. And grew. And grew. It eventually got to the point where I couldn't stand it anymore, and I dropped to my knees and started to yell, allowing a small release of my anguished soul. When I ran out of breath, I looked up and was faced with the entire waiting room staring at me like I was insane.  
  
I would have been embarrassed, if I hadn't just lost my sense of feeling anything. I stood calmly and headed for the doors, but someone stood in my way. In fact, five people stood in my way. I looked up and was able to recognize them.  
  
Molly Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter stood in my way.  
  
"Move," I said calmly.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, his voice almost as calm as me, "I'm afraid I can't let you go."  
  
I groaned and felt me knees crumple beneath me.  
  
"If I swear to be a good boy for ever and ever like Potter over there will you let me go and die in peace?" I said, looking up at the old man from the ground.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy--"  
  
"Stop calling me that," I said sharply.  
  
"Fine," Dumbledore sighed, "But I'm afraid I can't let you go, seeing as how you -have- no place to go."  
  
"Like I told that damn Healer," I said, "I don't give a shit anymore!"  
  
"Mr. Mal--Draco, I must ask that you stop swearing."  
  
"Okay, if you won't let me go on to live my sorry, pathetic life, will you at least tell me where you're going to take me if I decide to go with you?" I sighed, standing up and facing the group.  
  
"Well," Dumbledore looked around the small group, "I'm afraid that, unless Mr. Potter highly objects, you'll have to stay with him."  
  
He looked towards Potter as if waiting for a response. Potter just shrugged.  
  
"As long as he stays out of my stuff, I'm okay with it," Potter said, shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Weasley looked at his friend, "I mean, think of who we're talking about!"  
  
"I am," Potter said, looking at me calmly, "And I believe it's the first time I've actually -seen- him…"  
  
"They all know about my mother then?" I asked Dumbledore, looking around the group.  
  
"They know why she's here," Dumbledore replied, "How is she, anyway?"  
  
"Dead," I said coldly, my voice cracking.  
  
"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley said at once, looking at me, "Are you alright?"  
  
I nearly laughed at this. I was covered in blood, I had just seen my 'father' beat the shit out of my mother, and my mother had just died in my arms. So was I fine? Guess.  
  
"Give me a knife and I will be."  
  
They looked stunned at my answer.  
  
"Fine," I sighed, "I'll go and live with people who would probably kill me in my sleep. Can I just go back to the Manor and get some clothes?"  
  
Dumbledore looked from me, to Granger, then back to me.  
  
"Ms. Granger will have to accompany you," Dumbledore finally said.  
  
Granger stepped forward and stood next to me.  
  
"You guys go ahead back to Harry's house," She said, glancing at me, "We'll just go on the Manor."  
  
I looked at her and opened my mouth to ask her how she was going to apparate there if she didn't know where it was, but she cut me off.  
  
"I know where it is," She said, "I read a book about it."  
  
"There's a book on my house?" I said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Well," She shrugged, "Technically, it's on the ten greatest mansions of the age, and you're rated number eight."  
  
"Oh," I said, "…Well, let's go then."  
  
The other group each disappeared with a slight -pop- while Granger and I apparated to the Malfoy Manor.  
  
When we got there, however, I automatically wished I hadn't. We apparated in the main hallway of the mansion, which led to a huge staircase that led up to the second, third, and fourth floors. Also, this hallway was where my mother had been beaten to death, thus there was a huge puddle of blood on the tile floor in front of us. Hermione gagged and clamped her hand firmly over her mouth while I crouched down and took a closer look at the puddle, forcing back the vomit that was climbing up my throat. I reached my hand forward and trailed my fingers along the floor, gathering blood on them. The blood was already cold and beginning to dry. I rubbed it between my index finger and my thumb, beginning to think. This had come from my mother. It was cold…like she would be forever now…  
  
I got up suddenly and started to walk up the stairs, ignoring the puddles of blood (these were probably mine) that stained the carpet. Hermione immediately started to follow me, carefully stepping around the puddles of blood. I went up to the third floor and turned right down the hall that led to my room. I lifted my hand and ran it along the white walls, leaving lines of blood across the wall. I smiled and chuckled softly at this, enjoying the way the blood slowly dripped down the wall…  
  
Hermione reached forward and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from the wall.  
  
"Stop," She said softly, "Please…"  
  
I stopped and looked at her. She had a slightly desperate look in her eyes, so I stopped and started walking towards my room again. When I reached the door, I found the door to be partially open already and the sound of someone moving around inside. I put my hand in front of Hermione to stop her from walking and quietly walked up to the door. I glanced inside my room, took a step back, and kicked the door completely open.  
  
Daisy, my new House Elf, has two bags in front of her. One was closed and easily recognized as my mothers while the other was open and clearly recognizable as mine. Daisy jumped back when I kicked the door open, dropping the pile of clothes she was holding and falling backwards.  
  
"Hullo," I said, walking into the room and kneeling down in front of her, "Whatcha doin'?"  
  
"Master Draco!" The small House Elf cried, her enormous blue eyes opening even wider than they already were. It took her a second to register the fact that I was actually -there-, then another second to throw herself at me and hug me tightly. I was taken aback for a moment before I hugged her back. I actually liked this House Elf.  
  
"Master Draco," Daisy said as she let me go and moved back, starting to collect the clothes she had just dropped (-my- clothes actually), "I'm packing your things. You must leave! Master Lucius might come back!"  
  
"Okay," I said, standing up and looking around, "If he does come back Daisy, please, tell him you don't know where we are."  
  
"Yessir," Daisy nodded vigorously as she continued to pack my things, "That other bag is full of your mother's things."  
  
"My mother's dead Daisy," I said automatically.  
  
"Yessir," Daisy replied, "Ronny felt it when your mother died, sir. He's already left, sir. But I got her things so that dreadful aunt of yours wouldn't get the, sir. I know how you feel about her, sir."  
  
"Thanks…" I said, smiling slightly as Daisy finished packing and zipped the bag up. She picked them up although they were nearly twice her size and set them on the ground next to the bed.  
  
"Can you get one of the bags?" I turned and asked Hermione.  
  
She nodded and stepped forward next to me to get a back, but a loud -pop- echoed throughout the nearly empty house. The pop was followed by a loud curse. I knew that voice automatically.  
  
"Lucius…" I whispered.  
  
"What?!" Hermione whispered back, looking slightly panicky.  
  
"Get under the bed!" I replied, kicking the bags under the bed, "Now!"  
  
She nodded before she got down on her stomach and rolled under the bed. I followed when I heard footsteps on the stairs and ended up rolling on top of Hermione. I pulled the blankets down over the edge of the bed to hide us when I heard Lucius coming down the hallway. Hermione stayed quite calm considering the fact that I was on top of her. I leaned my head down until my mouth was next to her ear and whispered:  
  
"Don't move. Don't breath. Once he leaves we have to use Floo powder to get to Potter's house since I don't know where it is. Understand?"  
  
I felt Hermione nod from below me as Lucius walked into my room.  
  
"Where's the boy?" He asked Daisy.  
  
"I don't know, sir," She replied, "He was here a while ago, but he left, sir. He didn't say where he was going, sir."  
  
"You didn't stop him?" Lucius asked coldly.  
  
"You didn't tell me to stop him, sir!" Daisy answered, "If you had, sir, I would have gladly stopped him, sir!"  
  
"You better not be lying to me, elf," Lucius said, "If you are, you'll get a lot worse than clothes."  
  
I felt Hermione start to tremble beneath me and I leaned down, giving her the best hug I could in the odd position we were in. This made her calm down a little bit. She stopped shaking at least.  
  
"Never, sir!" Daisy said quickly.  
  
Lucius growled and took a step forward, kicking Daisy squarely in the face before he turned and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.  
  
I rolled out from under the bed and helped Hermione out after me. I put a finger over my closed lips and nodded sideways towards Daisy. Hermione nodded and rushed over to Daisy, kneeling down next to her to check and see if she was okay. I slid the bags out from under the bed and put them on top of the bed before I walked over to the fireplace against the right wall and checked the small flower pot on a table next to it. It was filled to the brim with Floo powder. I turned back around and looked towards Hermione and Daisy. Daisy had stood and was now trying to stop her bleeding nose.  
  
"Draco," Hermione whispered, motioning to Daisy, "Can we take her with us?"  
  
"Do you want to go?" I asked Daisy, crouching down in front of her.  
  
"Pwease, sur!" Daisy whispered, her nose still flowing a greenish-red blood.  
  
"Okay," I answered, looking up at Hermione, "You need to go first so we know where to go."  
  
Hermione nodded, grabbed the bag containing my mother's things, took a handful of Floo powder, and stepped into the fire.  
  
"Twelve Grimmauld Place!" She said clearly, disappearing in a flash of green flames.  
  
"Can you apparate there?" I asked Daisy, picking up the other bag and taking a few steps closer to the fireplace. Daisy nodded quickly.  
  
"Wait until I leave, then apparate out of here, okay?" I said. Another nod.  
  
"Okay then," I said, grabbing a handful of Floo powder and stepping into the fireplace.  
  
"Ready?" I asked Daisy.  
  
Yet another nod.  
  
"Twelve Grimmauld Place!" I said clearly after dropping the powder.  
  
The room started to spin and I closed my eyes to keep from throwing up. When I felt myself steady, I looked up and stepped out of the fireplace, dusting myself off. Hermione was standing in front of me, with the rest of the 'gang' standing behind her.  
  
"Welcome, Draco," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, "To Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."  
  
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A/N: And there's the seven-page first chapter! Review if you like it. If you didn't like it, well you just wasted a while, now didn't you? 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all that reviewed. And just so I answer things: fyrelement (really cool name by the way) it'll be a Draco/Hermione. I believe that's the only ship I really WANT to happen even though J.K. herself said it WASN'T going to happen. Well that kills hope for us D/Hr shippers, eh? ANYWAY, read, review, you know the drill.  
  
Ohhh wait, just so I can apologize now: Ignore any typos I might make. My spell check is a defective piece of crap and my attention span won't allow me to go over what I've just written before I post it.  
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Draco Angor  
Chapter 2  
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"Welcome, Draco," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, "To Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."  
  
I stepped out of the fireplace and dropped the bag on the floor. There was a _crack_ on my right and Daisy appeared in a flash of white light. Her nose had finally stopped bleeding, but the front of the pillowcase she was wearing as a dress was still covered with blood. I smiled slightly at her before I looked around the kitchen I found myself in. It was a large, gloomy room with rough stone walls that gave it the appearance of a dungeon. Large iron pots and pans hung from the dark ceiling, blending into the shadows. A large wooden table stood in the middle of the table, surrounded by chairs. Goblets and plates still full of half-eaten food with from lunch apparently lay on top of the table.  
  
"Left in a rush, did you?" I asked, looking at the food.  
  
"The news of your…The news came as a surprise," Mrs. Weasley answered, quickly rushing to clean up the dirty dishes. My stomach growled painfully. I hadn't eaten in over a day.   
  
"I'll cook dinner then," Mrs. Weasley said, waving her wand so the dishes began to clean themselves.   
  
"Can I help, miss?" Daisy asked, taking a cautious step towards Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Oh," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling at the tiny House Elf, "Yes, sure, umm…"  
  
"Daisy, miss."  
  
"Yes, yes…Daisy. Please, can you pass me the pot over there?"  
  
"Yes, miss."  
  
Daisy and Mrs. Weasley began to cook dinner while the rest of us just looked at each other in silence. Potter was the first one to speak.  
  
"You'll have to room with me," He said, crossing his arms and staring at me through his glasses, "There's a bathroom up there if you want clean up a bit."  
  
"Uhh…" I shook my head a bit. I was getting dizzy for some reason (probably blood loss), "Sure. Show me where it is."  
  
Potter turned and started to walk towards the hallway, but he stopped at the door and turned around.  
  
"Be quiet once you get into the hall," He said, "We have a _really_ evil portrait."  
  
The last comment made me stop and stare at him a bit, but I just shook my head and continued on. I did as he told me in the hall and made as little noise as possible as we climbed the stairs. Once we got to the second floor he stopped being careful and continued on until we reached what was apparently his room. He opened the door roughly and walked inside, beckoning for me to follow.  
  
"It's not much," Potter said as he waved his hand, causing the candles on the walls to immediately glow with life, "But it's the best we can give you."  
  
This room was spacious and it seemed gloomy compared to the brightly lit hallway. Two beds were against the far wall, one with crimson blankets on the right and one with emerald green blankets on the left that had my mother's bag sitting at the foot of it. Hermione had apparently sent the bag up with a spell. A doorway on my right led to a bathroom (at least I was assuming it was). I squinted in the dim light at a portrait on the wall between the beds and was able to see the dark silhouette of a man inside the frame.  
  
"What's that?" I asked Potter, nodding my head towards the painting.  
  
"A portrait of my godfather," Potter replied, his expression growing dark in an instant, "You can just throw a curtain over it if you don't like him looking at you."  
  
"No," I said, walking up to the green bed and dropping my bag on the floor next to I, "It's okay."  
  
"I got a friend to paint it with an enchanted canvas in sixth year," Potter said softly, walking up to the painting and tracing a finger along the frame.  
  
"Who painted it? It's pretty good."  
  
"Dean Thomas."  
  
"Can…can you get him to paint something for me?"  
  
"What do you want him to paint?"  
  
"…A portrait of my mother."  
  
Potter looked up at me and stared at my face for a moment before he switched his gaze back to his feet.  
  
"Yeah," He finally replied, "Just give him a picture."  
  
We dropped back into silence, me staring at my feet and Potter still tracing a finger absentmindedly along the frame of the picture. He finally dropped his hand from the frame and smeared his arm across his face before he turned to me.  
  
"The shower's in there," He said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, "I'll sent Hermione up with food soon if you want any."  
  
"Sure," I said, my voice sounding far away to me, like I was listening to someone else talk through a phone or a radio.  
  
"There're towels stacked next to the door," Potter said as he turned and walked to the door, "Some of us have somewhere to go, so you'll be here alone with Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, the twins, and your house-elf."  
  
"Where do you have to go?" I asked as I headed for the bathroom door.  
  
"Shopping," Was all he said before he left.  
  
I sighed and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I lifted my gaze from the floor and was surprised to find a floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of me. I hadn't seen myself since Lucius had beaten me, and I was now able to see the damage he had caused.  
  
My hair was not its usual white-blonde, but instead seemed a deep red with stains of dark brown where the blood had dried. My clothes and pale skin were stained with blood as well, some of it from the deep scratches all over my body and some of it from my mother…Bruises blossomed over my skin, some of them in the shape of fists and other in the shape of footprints. Most were hidden by the blood, but the few that peeked through the veil of crimson looked pretty bad.  
  
I growled at my reflection and turned my head so I didn't have to see myself. I instead turned to the bathtub and turned on the hot water, then the cold water once steam began to rise. I plugged up the tub and allowed it to fill with water, turning off the water once the bathtub was nearly filled with the clear water. I stripped off my bloody clothes, leaving them in a pile next to the door before I stepped into the water and slid down until only my head remained above the water. I felt my tense muscles relax as closed my eyes and tilted my head back. After a while I slipped my head under the water and furiously massaged the blood out of my hair, leaving the already pinkish water stained red. I grabbed a bar of soap from a stand next to me and worked out the rest of the blood from my body. When I was finished with that I simply laid my head back and closed my eyes, wishing all the pain away. I felt my head slip under the water before I was aware of myself moving. I felt myself hold my breath before my head was completely submerged under the water, and after that I felt completely oblivious to whether or not I kept that one, precious, life-sustaining breath. I already felt dizzy from what I was assuming was blood-loss. Who knows? Better yet…Who cares?  
  
I don't think I ever would have raised my head back out of the water were it not for the fingers twisting in my hair and yanking me upwards. I was raised into a sitting position before I started to cough up red tinted water. I looked up at the person that had saved me from committing suicide (even if it _was_ an unconscious attempt at suicide) and was met with honey brown eyes that could only belong to one person.  
  
"What in the _hell_ were you doing?" Hermione demanded angrily, her eyes locked firmly onto my own.  
  
I suddenly began to laugh, my voice rising steadily until it filled the small room. I don't even know why I was laughing. Because I had just attempted to drown myself without even thinking about it? Oh yes, that was truly hilarious. This apparently didn't make Hermione feel any better, because she hauled back and slapped me much like she had in third year, only this time much harder. My laughing ceased automatically while I looked up at Hermione with wide eyes.  
  
"Were you just trying to kill yourself?" Hermione asked again, her eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"I didn't mean to," I said slowly, realizing how stupid I sounded. I didn't _mean_ to attempt suicide. That sounded _really_ sane…  
  
Hermione made a sound of disgust and grabbed a towel, handing it to me and turning around so her back faced me. I stood up, dripping the red water off of me, and wrapped the towel tightly around my waist. I realized two things at that moment. One, you couldn't even see through the water because it was so red with blood, and two, Most of the blood was mine, not my mother's.  
  
"Are you done?" Hermione asked viciously a second later, turning her head slightly towards me. I pulled the plug of the bathtub, letting the water run down the drain as I stepped out onto the floor, dripping a mixture water and blood onto the floor.  
  
"Yeah," I managed to say.  
  
Hermione walked out the door, leaving it open as a sign that I should follow her. I stood there for a second before I turned my gaze downward and followed her into the bedroom. She was sitting on the end of Potter's bed, glaring in my direction and vigorously rubbing her left wrist with her right hand.  
  
"Sit," She commanded me, jerking her head towards the end of my bed.  
  
"Can I at least get dressed?" I asked.  
  
"Sit," She repeated.  
  
She had murder in her eyes, so I did as she said and sat on the end of my bed, facing her.  
  
"So…" I said softly, bringing another glare in my direction.  
  
"Do you realize what you tried to do?" She asked me, rubbing her left wrist even harder now.  
  
"Uh…" I focused my gaze on her wrist, "I tried to drown myself without really realizing it until you forcibly yanked my head up out of the water."  
  
"And any reason _why_ you attempted to kill yourself?" She asked.  
  
Another laugh tried to force its way up my throat, but I held it back for fear of being hit again.  
  
"Well," I said, "My mother was just beaten to death by the man that I believed was my father for eighteen years, that same man has been beating me since the age of five for no reason other than the pleasure of hearing me scream, all the people I have ever loved in the world (including the man who truly was my father although I didn't know it until an hour ago) are now all dead, at the rate I'm going I'll be dead by my nineteenth birthday, and I really have no reason to live on this pathetic shit-hole they call Earth anymore."  
  
I took a deep breath and stared steadily at Hermione. She looked stunned at my outburst. I became increasingly annoyed by her rubbing her wrist, so I reached forward and tore her hands apart, revealing why exactly she was rubbing her wrist so hard.  
  
"I see you're no stranger to suicide either," I said to her, looking down at the ugly scar that made its way across the veins of her left wrist. I looked at her right wrist and saw the skin unmarred.  
  
"Didn't finish the job, eh?" I said softly to her. She looked down at my hands and tears soon began to fall down her cheeks.  
  
"I…Harry stopped me…" She whispered.  
  
"So why did you do it?" I asked her, leaning forward until I was a foot away from her face.  
  
"My…Voldemort…My parents were his last victims before Harry killed him…" She answered.  
  
"So if you know where I'm coming from why did you stop me?" I asked, leaning even closer, "You don't even like me. You've told me you wish me dead…"  
  
She really _had_ wished me dead. She had told me in sixth year right after she kneed me in the…Never mind.  
  
"I…" She raised her head and looked at me through tear-filled eyes, "I don't want any more death…"  
  
I took a deep breath and numbly realized I was holding tightly onto her hand. I let go of her and stood up, walking over to my bag and unzipping it. I grabbed a set of clothes out of it and walked to the bathroom, leaving Hermione crying on Harry's bed. I dressed quickly into jeans and a black t-shirt before I walked back out and went over to Hermione, sitting next to her on the bed. She was still crying, but now her tears fell silently down her face and she stared blankly at the wall in front of her. I raised my hand and hesitantly began to rub her back. She stiffened slightly, then relaxed, turning her head down and staring at her hands. I continued rhythmically running my hand over her back until she stopped crying and wiped her eyes.  
  
"You okay now?" I asked her softly. She sniffed and nodded, standing and walking to the door.  
  
"Can you please not tell anyone about…" She held up her wrist, causing the pale scar to catch the dim candlelight and flash white.  
  
"Don't they know?" I asked, standing up and crossing my arms over my chest.  
  
"No," She answered, "Only Harry and the twins."  
  
"Then sure," I replied, "I won't tell anyone."  
  
"Thanks," She said, "And dinner should be done by now….That's why I came up in the first place."  
  
"Okay," I said, "Give me a minute and I'll be down."  
  
She smiled at me and nodded before walking out the door. I sighed, ran my hand through my damp hair, and walked to the bathroom. I looked at my reflection now that I was free of blood. My hair was back to its old white-blonde color now that the bloody water had leaked out of it and my skin seemed to glow because I was so pale. At least, the skin that wasn't covered in bruises. I had a particularly nasty one around my neck. Apparently Lucius had tried to strangle me but I had forgotten. I looked at the cuts and bruises on my arms, grimacing at them now that I could see them clearly. I walked back to my bag and grabbed a black turtle-neck, slipping it on over my head and hiding the ugly bruises. I looked once more at my reflection and turned, walking out of the bathroom and crossing the room. Once I got to the door, I turned and waved my hand, causing all of the candles in the room to go out before I stepped out into the hallway and headed down to the kitchen, wishing more and more with each step that Hermione hadn't pulled me back up…  
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A/N: Well, here's chapter two. Sorry I took so long. The teachers love to load us down at the end of the year (only EIGHT DAYS left!!) and I've had social issues to deal with. But, hey, it's out. If the next chapter's not out by June 11, it probably won't come out until late July. I'll be on vacation and far away from my dear…no, from my horrid computer. But, I'll try to make it interesting to make up for it…Until then, review please. I'm aiming for at least 150 reviews by the end of this fanfic. I got 102 on my other one…But one was a flame…My squirrels will take care of it though…don't worry…muahahahahaha… 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks everyone who reviewed! Read it, love it, review it. Here's chapter 3.  
  
----  
Draco Angor  
Chapter 3  
----  
  
I walked into the kitchen and took the seat next to Hermione, noticing how empty the house was as opposed to when I had come. Other than Hermione and I, only Mrs. Weasley, the twins, and Daisy were in the rugged stone room. Mrs. Weasley and Daisy were busy setting the plates around the table and preparing the last minute food while the twins were having a loud conversation about their business. I had been there once to buy a gift for my cousin, Emilee, before she…Anyway, it was a decent store.  
  
Hermione kept her gaze leveled at the empty plate before her, completely of everyone and everything around her. Her arms were crossed tightly across her stomach and she sat hunched forward, her hair creating a curtain that hid her face from everyone in the room. She sighed softly and put her head down on the table, resting her forehead against the rough wood. I leaned forward and scratched her head. She lifted it slightly to look at me and I scratched her head again.  
  
"Good puppy…" I muttered, causing her to smile and laugh softly. I allowed a small smile to flash across my face for a moment before it was gone. I reached behind her head and flipped her hair over her head into her face. She raised a hand and pushed it back, making a face at me. I tugged her hair gently and she sat up completely, looking over at me.  
  
"Yes?" She asked me, cocking her head to the side.  
  
"Smile again," I replied, poking her shoulder. This made her smile, although she tried to hide it a moment later.  
  
"Why?" She asked.  
  
"You don't need to be depressed," I answered, "You don't deserve it."  
  
"I don't deserve it?" She raised an eyebrow, "What d'you mean?"  
  
"You don't deserve it," I repeated, "You haven't done anything to deserve pain."  
  
"Well," She sighed, "Harry hasn't done anything either and he has more pain than you could ever wish on anyone."  
  
"Well you haven't heard what I want to do to Lucius yet," I smirked.  
  
"I don't think I want to know," Hermione said, smiling sadly and looking down at the table. She yawned and rested her head on top of the table again, closing her eyes and tossing her hair out of her face. I reached forward and started scratching behind her ear again, causing her to laugh again and move her head slightly.  
  
There was suddenly a loud bang from the hallway and then what sounded like an old woman screaming random things like "MUDBLOODS, "FILTH" , " SCUM" and "TRAITORS." There was shouting, sounds of a scuffle, and then the screaming stopped, leaving a ringing silence behind. Potter, the youngest Weasley (I can't remember her name…), Weasel, and Mr. Weasley walked into the room, each soaking wet and looking tired.  
  
"So how did it go?" Mrs. Weasley asked the group as they all sat down at the table.  
  
"We couldn't get anything," Potter sighed, running a hand through his wet hair and setting his elbows on the table.  
  
"Stupid bat," The youngest muttered, sitting down next to me, "I hope he dies a very slow, painful death."  
  
"Now Ginny…" Mrs. Weasley said softly to her daughter, walking forward and placing a platter of steaming food in front of us, "It couldn't have been that bad…"  
  
"He nearly got me with a hex," Weasel muttered, shaking his head and reaching forward to grab a roll. Hermione stopped him from reaching forward by slapping his hand away. He looked up at her with a confused look on his face.  
  
"Wait for everyone to get here," Hermione told him, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.  
  
"Everyone's here…" Weasel said slowly before a look of realization spread across his face.  
  
"No…" Potter said, turning to Hermione, "Tell me he's not coming…"  
  
"Sorry," Hermione answered, shrugging, "He sent an owl while you were gone. He'll be over in a few minutes."  
  
Potter set his head down on the table and began to bang it repeatedly against the wood. Ginny reached over and grabbed his hair, stopping his head a centimeter above the table.  
  
"You're giving me a headache," She said, "Besides, it's your house. Tell Snape he can't come."  
  
"I can't do that," Harry muttered as Ginny let him go, "That would be rude."  
  
"And he _did_ help you defeat Voldemort," Hermione reminded him as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. Potter let out a harsh laugh.  
  
"How?" He muttered.  
  
"If I remember clearly," A cold voice said from the doorway, "I believe I told you the attack the Dark Lord was planning, thus enabling you to counter with an attack of your own and triumph like we all knew you would."  
  
We all slowly turned our heads to the door and looked up to our former Potions master, Severus Snape.  
  
"Hello," He said, casting a glance (actually more of a glare) around the table.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," He said as he caught sight of me, a smirk crossing over his face, "I didn't expect to find you here."  
  
"Don't call me that," I said to him, my voice cold.  
  
"And what's that Mr. Malfoy?" He asked, the smirk growing slightly.  
  
"Don't test me," I said to him, "_Especially_ when I have rather large knives within my reach."  
  
"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Severus," Mrs. Weasley said quickly, "Please take a seat."  
  
She gestured to the empty seat at the end of the table next to Mr. Weasley.  
  
"We'll have the drinks in a second," She said, casting a small smile around the table at us, "Let me just get the silverware passed out…"  
  
She waved her wand at a row of drawers to the right of the sink and they flung open, the silverware flying out of them and heading towards the table. Once there they quickly arranged themselves neatly to the right and left of every empty plate on the table. A knife soared over to the left of my plate while a fork and a spoon landed on the right of my plate. Hermione immediately reached over and grabbed my knife, moving it over to her left side and just out of my reach. I looked at her and she raised an eyebrow. I leaned close to her until my lips were next to her ear.  
  
"I'm not the one who prefers knives, remember?"  
  
I moved back and smirked at her, her face holding a look of surprise. It quickly turned into a look of fury and she turned around, her expression changing quickly from fury to sadness to a passive look. I turned to the food on the table and I felt a stab of guilt, but I quickly suppressed it. I had gotten good at that kind of thing over the years…  
  
Mrs. Weasley waved her wand again and three glass pitchers appeared on the table, one filled with what looked like pumpkin juice, another filled with milk, and the last one filled with water. Potter reached forward and grabbed the milk, the twins both reached forward and grabbed the pumpkin juice, and Ginny reached forward and grabbed the water. The pitchers were eventually passed around the table before they were set back on the middle of the table. Then the fight for food began. All I put on my plate was mashed potatoes and peas. Mrs. Weasley sat down next to her husband while Daisy just sat herself down on the floor beside my chair. While the others began to talk amongst themselves, I simply picked at my food, eating only about half of it before I lost my appetite. I looked at the plate for a few minutes before I took it and set it on the floor in front of Daisy. She looked up at me and nodded her head in thanks before she began to eat the food with her bare hands. After that I crossed my arms over the table and set my chin down on my forearm, allowing my head to fall sideways and closing my eyes. I began to listen to the conversation around me. They seemed to think I was asleep.  
  
"So why is he here?" I heard Snape ask, picturing him nodding in my direction.  
  
"His mother was just murdered," Mr. Weasley answered quietly.  
  
"Really?" Snape asked, "By who?"  
  
"Lucius."  
  
"That's not very surprising," Snape said, "He's always had a bit of a temper, hasn't he?"  
  
"Well, yes, but it doesn't mean he's been going around killing people."  
  
"You never know…Lucius was a Death Eater. He could have already killed dozens."  
  
He was right actually. Lucius had killed approximately twenty-six people, twenty of them muggles and six of them wizards.   
  
"Even Narcissa probably killed…She was into the Dark Arts as well."  
  
I felt a wave of anger pass over me. It was her hate for the Dark Arts that had gotten my mother killed. If she had embraced the Arts, Lucius wouldn't have beat her. She was firmly against me becoming a Death Eater, which was another reason he had beat both of us.  
  
"Even Mr. Malfoy there…" Snape continued, "He's probably killed before as well…"  
  
This statement made me want to kill Snape in many, many ways. In a split second three things happened: My eyes snapped open as I jumped up, everything glass in the room (including Potter's glasses) shattered, and both Hermione and Ginny grabbed either of my arms to prevent me from lunging over the table and killing Snape.  
  
"First off, my mother was NOT a murderer," I yelled at him, still attempting to get out of the grasp of the girls and the twins (who had jumped up to help), "And neither am I, which is more than I can say about you!"  
  
Snape grew pale and stared at me with wide eyes.  
  
"Another thing," I continued, "Do NOT call me 'Mr. Malfoy' EVER again!"  
  
He continued to stare at me, his dark eyes growing wider and wider with each word I yelled at him.  
  
"And lastly," It was now taking the girls, the twins, Potter, and Weasel to hold me back, "If you EVER say that me or my mother practiced the Dark Arts you won't say anything else ever again!"  
  
At this point, Snape stood slowly, raised his hand, and backhanded me across the face. Everything was silent for a moment before I let out a roar and broke free of their grasps, leaping across the table and punching Snape square in the face. He fell down to the floor, me going with him and continuing to punch him in the face until hands grabbed my arms and prevented me from hurting the slime ball anymore. I allowed them to pull me up off the ground as Snape coughed up blood and raised his hand and wiped at his bloody nose.  
  
"Get him upstairs!" I heard Mrs. Weasley say to whoever was holding me and I was suddenly being dragged towards the door. The noise in the hall had apparently awakened the damn portrait in the hallway, for the thing was screaming out random things. I didn't pay attention to it, I just shrugged off whoever was holding onto me (I was assuming it was Potter since he was pretty much the only one in the room with enough strength to hold me back) and apparated up to the room that I and Potter shared. I started to pace around the room for a while before I reared back and punched the wall, leaving a huge dent. After a minute or so there were five loud _pops_ and Hermione, Potter (who had taken off his glasses and had many cuts around his eyes), Ginny, and the twins were standing before me.  
  
"What in the HELL was all that about?" Ginny asked, pointing a finger towards the door.  
  
I set my jaw and shook my head continuing to pace and hitting the wall again in fury and causing another dent to appear.  
  
"Ginny…" Potter said softly.  
  
"You don't just rear off and HIT people," Ginny continued on, stamping her foot.  
  
"Ginny!" Potter said louder.  
  
"WHAT?" Ginny yelled, whirling around to look at him.  
  
"Stop," Potter said calmly.  
  
"What?" Ginny repeated.  
  
"Get out," He said to her, his voice still level and calm, "Fred, George, you two leave as well. Let me and Hermione talk to him. You three go help Ron clean up."  
  
The twins nodded and apparated downstairs with Ginny following a moment later, leaving me alone with Hermione and Potter. They both walked over to the beds and sat down, Potter on his own bed and Hermione on mine.  
  
"They don't really understand us," Potter said quietly, "Us orphans."  
  
I stopped pacing and turned towards him, crossing my arms over my chest.  
  
"They've just always been a close family and all…" He continued, his gaze dropping to the floor in front of his bed, "They don't understand why we take everything about our parents so hard…"  
  
I looked at the two in front of me before dropping my gaze down to my feet.  
  
"I did pretty much the same thing five years ago when I was thirteen," Potter sighed, looking up at me and crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"You beat the shit out of your former Potions professor for insulting your dead mother?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No," He replied, "I blew my aunt up for insulting my dead father."  
  
"Blew up as in 'boom' or blew up as in inflated?" I asked, a smirk appearing on my face.  
  
"The second one," He answered, a small smile crossing his face.  
  
"And what evil thing has she done?" I asked, nodding to Hermione.  
  
In response, they burst out laughing.  
  
"She…she…" Potter couldn't seem to talk through the laughter. I raised an eyebrow and looked at Hermione, who had calmed down a bit.  
  
"Ron insulted my Dad and I turned him into a girl," She managed to say, which sent all three of us laughing.  
  
"_Please_ tell me you have pictures," I choked out after three solid minutes of laughing.  
  
"Actually," Potter replied, "We do."  
  
"Can I see them?" I asked.  
  
"Ask the twins," Hermione replied, "They're holding onto them for blackmail."  
  
"I don't think they like me very much," I replied, "In fact no one in this house really likes me all that much…"  
  
"Well," Hermione stood up and crossed her arms over her chest, "It's just because we've never had a real conversation with you."  
  
"She's right," Potter said, standing as well, "The only time you and us have really talked is when we're throwing insults at each other."  
  
I laughed slightly.  
  
"Ah, the good ol' days…"  
  
"You're kidding, right?" Hermione said to me.  
  
I replied with a smile. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.  
  
"So," I sighed, "Do you _want_ to have a conversation?"  
  
"It depends," Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Can you remain civil?"  
  
"When provoked…"  
  
"Be serious!"  
  
"I was."  
  
Hermione shook her head and Potter laughed.  
  
"Alright then," I clapped my hands and rubbed them together, "Ask me a question and I swear to answer it truthfully."  
  
They looked at each other and Hermione suddenly smiled widely.  
  
"How big is your--"  
  
Potter stopped her from finishing the sentence by jumping over the bed and clamping a hand over her mouth.  
  
"Spare me," He said as I began to laugh.  
  
"What?" She asked when Potter removed his hand, dawning a look of innocence.  
  
"I _knew_ she wasn't as good as she seemed…" I muttered, smirking at her.  
  
She smiled evilly and began to laugh under her breath.  
  
"Oh, you should read her diary…" Potter muttered under his breath.  
  
"WHAT?" Hermione yelled at him.  
  
"I said nothing!" Potter shouted, jumping back over to his bed.  
  
"So no question?" I asked as Hermione glared at Potter.  
  
"Yes," Hermione answered, turning her gaze to me, "Just give me a second to think of one…"  
  
She crossed her arms and began to hit her forehead with the index finger of her right hand.  
  
"Think…think…think…" She muttered.  
  
"Pooh," Potter said to her.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione suddenly shouted, jumping up and crossing her arms over her chest triumphantly, "I have a question!"  
  
"This should be interesting," Potter smirked, curling a fist beneath his chin and setting his elbow on his knee.  
  
"How many people have you loved in your entire life?" She asked me.  
  
I was silent a moment.  
  
"Romantically or what?"  
  
"How many people would you die for?"  
  
"Four," I sighed, "Four throughout my entire life."  
  
"Who were they?" She asked softly.  
  
"My mother of course, my cousin, my aunt, and my uncle."  
  
"They're all dead aren't they?" She asked me.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"I could see it in your eyes…" She smiled sadly at me.  
  
I replied with a nod and turned my gaze to the floor.  
  
"What time is it?" I asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.  
  
Potter looked at his watch.  
  
"Ten twenty-four," He replied, "Mrs. Weasley will force us to go to sleep in a while."  
  
"I won't get a lecture, will I?" I asked, "For beating the shit out of Snape?"  
  
"No," Potter replied, "She'll actually be increasingly nice to you for about a week probably."  
  
"Odd way to punish people…"  
  
"That's Mrs. Weasley for you," Hermione said, yawning. She stretched and took a few steps forward.  
  
"Well," She said, "I'm off to bed."  
  
"Night," Potter nodded at her. He stood up and they hugged before she walked up to me.  
  
"Good night," She said to me.  
  
"Night," I replied. She reached forward and held my arm, walking forward towards the door and pulling my arm with it. She let go of my arm before she could actually move me, and then looked down at her hand with a confused look on her face. Crimson was smeared across her fingers.  
  
"You're bleeding," She said to me.  
  
I looked down at my arm and saw dark patches of blood against the black.  
  
"Don't worry about it," I said to her, not moving my gaze away from the blood.  
  
"Okay," Hermione nodded at me, "Good night then."  
  
I nodded back and she left.  
  
"You didn't bandage your cuts, did you?" Potter asked me, standing up and heading to the bathroom.  
  
"No," I replied, taking off the turtleneck and throwing it on the floor in front of my bed, looking at the visible cuts on my arms. I could now see other stains of blood on the black t-shirt I was wearing.  
  
"Here then," Potter took a step out of the bathroom and threw me a roll of bandages.  
  
"I'm gonna take a shower," Potter said, "So you have about half-an-hour before I go to sleep and turn the lights off."  
  
"Okay," I nodded at him and he nodded back, shutting the door of the bathroom and leaving me alone.  
  
I took the black t-shirt off as well and put in with the turtleneck before looking down at the wounds on my torso. I took the roll of bandages and quickly wrapped up the open wounds, slowing the bleeding and setting the roll of bandages on the floor next to my bed. After that I shrugged out of my pants, leaving myself standing in silk green boxers, and began to rummage through my bag for the black pajama bottoms I usually slept in. While I was searching, Potter came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He walked over to a dresser three feet to the left of his bed and began to rummage around in the top drawer. We glanced at each other once before we went back to what we were doing. Then, there was a knock at the door and it was opened before Harry could say anything.  
  
"Hey guys," Ginny said as she opened the door, "Mum said…"  
  
She trailed off when she saw me in nothing but my boxers and Potter with only a towel on. Her jaw dropped as she looked between the two of us.  
  
"My life is now complete…" She managed to say, a smile spreading on her face.  
  
Just then, as fate would have it, Hermione walked up in the hallway behind Ginny.  
  
"Hey Gin, did you borrow my…" She too trailed off when she saw me and Potter.  
  
"Oh my God…" She whispered, looking at the both of us. She had already seen me in nothing but a towel, but from the way she was reacting she had apparently never seen Potter in the same dress.  
  
"Yes?" I asked them, standing straight and crossing my arms over my chest.  
  
"Mum said to go to bed within the hour…" Ginny said faintly. She had drool gathering at the corner of her mouth now.  
  
"Okay," I nodded, "Now, would you please let us get to sleep?"  
  
Hermione nodded and reached over Ginny to close the door. I heard Ginny scratching at it for a moment before the noises stopped and footsteps were heard going down the hall.  
  
"That doesn't happen too often, does it?" I asked Potter while continuing to look for those damned pajama bottoms.  
  
"Now that she's seen it, she'll 'accidentally' come in every other week or so," He replied, finally grabbing a scarlet pair of boxers and pajama bottoms before he went back into the bathroom. I finally found the black pajama bottoms and slipped them on before I jumped into my bed and burrowed under the blankets, shielding my eyes from the dim light of the candles.  
  
After a few minutes, I heard Potter come out of the bathroom and get into his bed, the lights fading out a moment later. I waited until I could hear his level breathing before I let the tears that had threatened to fall since Hermione had asked me the question escape my eyes and slide down my nose onto the pillow beneath my head. I wasn't crying for my mother. Well…not completely at least. I was crying for my aunt as well, and my uncle (or...father now, isn't it?), but most of all for Emilee (my cousin…no, my _sister_). She had been my major source of comfort for my entire life, and I to her once her parents had been killed. She died three months ago. Well, technically she had just 'gone missing,' but the Dark Mark was found hovering above the house she was staying at…Voldemort has been dead for two years now and yet he still hurts me…Where's the fairness in that?  
  
----  
  
A/N: Okay, seriously people, that's the last chapter until August (maybe…). I think I did a good job though…nine pages…that'll last for like…ten minutes…Well, it really depends on how fast you read…But ANYWAY…yeah…read it, love it, review it…I would love many reviews to sustain me until August…That would be nice…But anyway…Yeah…Everyone seems to have mood-swings int his chapter…BUT ANYWAY...Yeah, Bye. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi peoples!! Yes, I'm back in hell--er…I'm back _home_, so here's the new chapter! School starts back the FIFTH (hello sophomore year…) so my writing time will decrease. I've been planning everything out in my head for a while now though, so get ready for plot twists. Until then, read, love, review (I say that too much, don't I? I need to find a new catchphrase…)  
  
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Draco Angor  
  
Chapter 4  
  
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Severus Snape apparated into the hallway of his house, the small _pop_ echoing around the large space. He threw the dirty rag he had been holding under his bloody nose on the ground in anger before walking over to the large mirror set up against the wall in front of him. His nose had swollen a considerably amount (an amazing feat since it was already bigger than any normal person's), and three of his teeth had been knocked out. Blood stained the area around his nose and under his chin, but the blood itself had stopped flowing. He frowned at his reflection and braced his hands against the wall on either side of the mirror, his gaze turning downwards to the floor. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, his hands clenching into fists. He gritted his teeth, the words Draco Malfoy had yelled at him echoing around in his head.  
  
_Murderer…  
_  
Snape lifted his head and looked around wildly for the source of the sound.  
  
"Who's there?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly.  
  
_Murderer…  
_  
The voice was closer now and Snape was able to distinguish where it was coming from: the mirror. Snape looked up and was shocked with what he saw. It was his reflection, for sure, but the pose was different. The reflection was leaning against the frame of the mirror with it's arms crossed over it's chest and one foot crossed over the other with a cold look etched onto it's face.  
  
"What the hell...?" Snape pushed off from the wall and took a step back, his eyes still riveted on the reflection before him.  
  
"Murderer," The reflection said to him again.  
  
"He deserved it," Snape replied coldly. "You know what he did to her."  
  
"But did you have the right to end his life?" The reflection spat back.  
  
"You're not going to make me feel guilty," Snape replied sharply. "Not after all the shit he put me and Mother through."  
  
"You still murdered him," The reflection glared back. "In cold blood, when he couldn't defend himself."  
  
"Shut up," Snape muttered in a low voice as the reflection let out a harsh laugh.  
  
"Murderer," It shot back, chanting the word over and over as Snape continued to glare at it.  
  
"Shut up," He shouted at it as the chanting got louder. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"  
  
He reared back and punched the mirror, silencing the laughter as the shattered pieces of the mirror fell on the floor at his feet. Snape dropped to his knees, the shards of the mirror cutting into his legs as he clutched his bleeding hand to his chest. His gaze was once again turned to the ground, his eyes wide open and his face drawn in a tight grimace. After a moment, his eyes shut tightly and tears began to fall down his cheeks as he sat in the darkness of the silent house, no one noticing his inner anguish, and no one really caring at all.  
  
--  
  
I woke to candle-light filling the room and immediately pulled the green blanket over my head. The two things I hated most were Lucius, and light. I let out a groan when I realized the bright light still filtered through the blanket and turned over onto my stomach in another attempt to block out the brightness. A huge weight suddenly weighed down the foot of my bed, so I rolled over to see what it was but I kept the blanket over my head so all I saw was the silhouette of a girl. This narrowed my choices to Ginny or Hermione, and I could guess which one it was. To make sure, I pulled the blanket down and looked up at the girl, squinting against the light. I was right about it being Hermione, but she was wearing something I had _never_ thought I'd see her in: Black shorts (incredibly _short_ shorts) and a red tank top with a black bra showing under it. Her hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun with a few locks sticking out here and there. She was standing at the edge of my bed with her hands crossed over her chest, looking down at me with a sad look on her face.  
  
"Good morning," I said to her with a yawn, folding my arms behind my head. "Any reason why you're scantily dressed and standing on my bed?"  
  
"Sorry," She sighed. "An owl came to my window with a letter for you, and I thought I'd give it to you right away."  
  
She pulled a folded letter out of a pocket in the back of her shorts and handed it to me.

"I was wondering if there were any mirrors in this house..." I muttered as I took the letter from Hermione and pushed myself up until my back was leaning against the headboard, crossing my legs. Hermione sat down in front of me and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. I ignored the letter for a moment and looked around the room with a yawn, noticing that Potter's bed was empty and neatly made.  
  
"Where's he?" I asked, nodding my head towards the crimson bed.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Oh, he wakes up at around six every morning. He's probably downstairs."  
  
"What time is it now?" I questioned. I had left my watch at Malfoy Manor, and I wasn't going back to get it.  
  
"Nine in the morning," She replied.  
  
"You couldn't wait an hour?" I groaned, before I looked down at the letter. It was from St. Mungos. I tore open the envelope and pulled out single folded piece of paper.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," I read softly. "We are terribly sorry for the loss of your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, and would like to inform you that her funeral will be held at noon on December 7th, at the private cemetery where all of the Malfoy's are buried. The message has been sent to your other relatives, and we hope you can make it. Sincerely, Bernard Pyre, Healer."  
  
I lowered the letter and looked up at Hermione.  
  
"What's today?" I asked her.  
  
"The fourth," She answered after a moment of thinking.  
  
I let out a cold laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?" Hermione asked with a raise of her eyebrow.  
  
"The irony of the entire thing," I answered, tossing the letter on the floor. "My birthday's on the seventh."  
  
Hermione looked taken aback for a moment, before she turned sideways and rose so she was standing next to my bed.  
  
"So are you going?" She asked me as I threw off the blankets and stood next to her, my gaze focused on the planks of wood beneath my bare feet.  
  
I shook my head slowly.  
  
"No," I answered. "I don't think so."  
  
"Why not?" Hermione asked.  
  
I raised my head slightly and looked at her through the curtain of my hair. I answered with a shrug.  
  
Hermione sighed and nodded.  
  
"Breakfast is probably ready," She said with a quick smile. "Come down when you want."  
  
I nodded once before Hermione flashed another supportive smile and apparated out of the room.  
  
I stood there for a moment, my eyes focused on the letter at my feet before I went to my bag and pulled out another pair of jeans and a green T-shirt. I went to the bathroom and looked at my shoes, which were still laying on the floor with the pile of my bloody clothes, trying to determine whether or not I should put them on. They were simple black sneakers, but they were stiff with dried blood that created dark brown stains on the material. I changed into the jeans and shirt before leaving the bathroom, deciding I'd just walk around barefoot for the time being. I threw the pajama bottoms on my bed before leaving the room, extinguishing the damned candles with a wave of my hand. I went down to the kitchen, finding it only occupied by Potter, Hermione, Ginny, and Daisy. Nine plates were out on the table, five of them half full and one of them empty completely. Hermione had changed into jeans and a black fitted T-shirt with a black wrist band covering the scar on her left wrist. Ginny was wearing clothes similar to Hermione's, and Potter was wearing a dark red long-sleeved shirt and jeans. They were eating silently while Daisy was sweeping the floor with a broom nearly twice her size. I walked over to the seat in front of the empty plate and sat down, filling the plate with random food set in platters in the center of the table. I looked around for a while as I was eating before the silence started to annoy me.  
  
"Where's everyone else?" I asked, my voice sounding deafening after the long silence.  
  
Potter jerked his head towards the fireplace.  
  
"Work," He answered simply between bites.  
  
I nodded in response before turning back to my food and allowing the silence to fall over the five of us again.  
  
"So what do you all do when the others are gone?" I asked after the silence began to annoy me again.  
  
"Come up with ways to torture small children and animals," Ginny shrugged.  
  
"You're kidding," I said.  
  
"How'd you guess?" Ginny said with a smile and a soft laugh, pushing her plate away as a sign that she was done. "Usually we're not the only ones here. Fred and George entertain us when no one else is here, but they had problems at the shop and had to leave."  
  
"So there's nothing to do?" I groaned.  
  
"Nothing much," Hermione answered. "We found a library on the second floor a while ago filled with books you could read, but it's kind of old."  
  
"You 'found' a library in the house?" I smirked. "How do you 'find' a library?"  
  
"Most of the house was boarded off and hidden behind the walls," Potter answered. "We don't really know _why_, but they did."  
  
"Odd," I muttered. "Have dark wizards lived here in the past? They could have blocked everything off to protect dark artifacts"  
  
"Always a possibility," Hermione replied with a shrug. "The people who used to live here were relatives of yours, actually."  
  
"Sounds like the Malfoy clan," I sighed, putting my fork down and pushing the plate away even though it was still half-full of food. "We're just full of murderers and back-stabbers and wife-beaters."  
  
"Apparently there's a black sheep every now and then," Ginny said to me with a smile. "Eh?"  
  
"Apparently," I answered with a small laugh.  
  
"So what're we gonna do all day?" Hermione said with a whine. "Everyone else doesn't get back 'til three."  
  
"I thought the twins were coming back at noon?" Ginny asked.  
  
"That's still three hours without entertainment," Hermione muttered.  
  
"I have an idea!" Ginny yelled, standing quickly and raising a finger into the air. "Let's play Truth or Dare!"  
  
Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance before dropping their forks, getting up at lightning speed, and running out of the room through the open door. Ginny looked after them for a moment before slowly turning her head towards me, an evil grin on her face. I stayed still for a moment before jumping over the table and following Potter and Hermione out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into the spacious living room. Hermione was turned sideways in a plush blue chair while Potter was sprawled out on the floor, his hands crossed behind his head. I walked over to a blue sofa and collapsed onto it, propping my feet up on one of the ends and my head onto the other.  
  
"So what're we gonna do for three hours?" Potter sighed, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with the end of his shirt.  
  
"I'm gonna go back to sleep," I replied with a yawn. "Wake me up when it's not so boring."  
  
"You do that," Hermione muttered. "Bye bye."  
  
I closed my eyes and rolled over onto my side, burying my face in the tattered cloth of the couch to block out the light filling the room. I drifted off to sleep in less than five minutes, allowing the nightmares to take me again...I just hoped they were less bloody this time around.  
  
----  
  
A/N: Poor Snape…Maybe I'll make him play a bigger role now…Chapter 5 should come out soon. Now review before my evil army of chocolate destroys you all. NOW I SAY!! Kidding…about the chocolate thing anyway…But seriously review and wish me luck in sophomore year, 'cause I already know it's gonna suck…Grrrrrr…Bye (Please keep in mind that I'm tired and running off a sugar high induced by Pepsi, so any random things I say I apologize for right now. Now good day.)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey. I'm not in a really good mood right now…But here's Chapter 5. Read and please review.Draco Angor Chapter 5

_I was floating in darkness…It wasn't like the sleep where you're not aware of anything like I usually hope for, just…darkness. I began to turn around in a slow circle, looking for anything in the darkness to indicate something there. I turned in four full circles before finally seeing a glint of light to my right. I immediately began to walk towards it, my footsteps rushed in my eagerness to get away from the consuming darkness. When I got about a yard away from the source of the light, I stopped dead in my tracks. Something…no, some-one- was sitting in the middle of a circle of light with their back facing me. Someone with white-blonde hair that fell to the middle of her back. Someone who wore a white tank top that pulled up to show her lower back. Someone who had a tattoo in the small of her back identical to one on the back of my neck that was hidden under my hair. Emilee sat before me, her thin form rocking back and forth before me. The tattoo -had- to be the one we shared. It was small, three inches by three inches, and it was simply two dragons facing one another, one black and one white. They were breathing flames at each other, the orange fire spelling out three symbols: 'D & E.'  
  
I took a tentative step towards my cousin--no, sister--and she began to rise shakily. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, and all I could see of them were her fingers clutching her sides. The back of her jeans were ripped with blood-stains all over them, and I was slightly scared of what she'd look like when she turned around. Still, I set my jaw and took a few more steps towards her, reaching a hand forward and setting it on her shoulder, slowly turning her around. A sob escaped my throat when I saw the extent of her injuries.  
  
The entire front of her tank top was stained crimson with blood flowing from a wound cut across her collarbone, and a large gash was across her bare stomach, the red liquid smearing across her pale skin. Her legs were covered with cuts and scratches, all of them varying in size and deepness. Her bare feet were cut up as well, and the blood leaking from them caused a small puddle of crimson to gather beneath her. Four gashes were cut across each arm, two across her lower arm and two across her upper arm. The cuts were all symmetrical to each other, and all eight were leaking blood in a constant stream. There were also two puncture wounds on each side of her neck, these also leaking blood that ran down her throat and stained her shoulders. Random scratches covered her face, and while these did not bleed terribly, two longs streaks of blood ran down her cheeks. They ran down from her eyes, and I realized a moment later that they were tears…tears of blood.  
  
Emilee took a step towards me and stumbled, grabbing hold of my forearms before she fell, causing me to fall to my knees with her. Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps as she looked up at me, pain etched onto her features. Then, she drew in one deep shuddering breath before looking straight into my eyes.  
  
"Help me…" She whispered. With her last word, blood began to pour out of her mouth as I simply looked on, not knowing_ how _I could help her. I felt a scream welling up in my throat, then tilted my head up and let it out.  
  
_"Emilee!" I yelled, sitting up straight and falling off of the couch and landing hard on my back. I looked wildly around the room, catching sight of the other three teens in the house looking at me with shocked looks on their faces. Potter and Ginny lay on the floor, a chessboard between them, while Hermione was sitting in a chair. Actually, sitting wasn't the right term, since she had begun to stand at my outburst but decided not to when she was halfway there. I looked around one last time at them before quickly apparating up to the room I shared with Potter.  
  
I landed sloppily a few inches above the ground, falling down roughly onto the wood. I got up shakily, and waved a hand at the corner where the candles were, lighting three of them. I stood still for a moment, my breathing shaky, before I realized my arms were throbbing with pain. I had been so shocked, I hadn't realized it. I looked down at the bandages wrapped around my arms and saw two bloodstains in the shape of hands through the white. I had apparently been clutching my arms in my sleep. I attempted to take them off, but my hands were shaking horribly, so I just brought my right arm up to my mouth and ripped it off with my teeth. I unraveled the bandages on my right arm and discarded them on the floor before ripping the bandages on my left arm and unraveling them as well. I dropped these bandages on the floor next to the others before I pulled my shirt up over my head and looked down at the bandages wrapped around my torso. Blood-stains showed through these as well and, with some difficulty, I managed to unravel the bandages and I pull them off. The door opened as I dropped these bandages on the floor and Hermione walked in, closing the door behind her.  
  
"So who's Emilee?" She asked, taking a step towards me. I looked across the room at her, but didn't move.  
  
"Why do you care?" I asked coldly after a beat of silence.  
  
"Well why shouldn't I?" She asked. "We're basically in the same boat."  
  
I looked up at her and let her take a few steps forward before something in my mind snapped.  
  
"The same boat?" I spat at her coldly, causing her to stop in her tracks. "You could never even _imagine_ the pain I've felt."  
  
Hermione winced for a second, realizing she had said the wrong thing, but she knew it was to late to go back now.  
  
"Well we're both orphans," She said cautiously.  
  
I let out a cold laugh at this point.  
  
"Orphans?" I yelled. "Really? Let me ask you this Granger, where were you when your parents were killed?"  
  
She faltered for a moment before stuttering an answer.  
  
"H-here," She managed to say, taking a step back as I began to advance towards her.  
  
"I held my mother in my arms as she died," I said to her, my voice low. "You were with your _friends_."  
  
I kept moving towards her until she hit the far wall, then I stepped closer to her and stood about a foot in front her.  
  
"_Friends_, Granger. You have _friends_. You're _loved_. You lost your parents, but you still have _friends_." I leaned closer to her and look straight into her eyes. "I'm _unloved_ and _unwanted_. So don't you _dare_ say we're 'in the same boat.' You have _no_ idea."  
  
"I only tried to help," She said, her eyes sparkling with tears.  
  
"Get out," I said, slamming a hand flat against the wall next to her head.  
  
"Why won't you let us help?"  
  
"Don't make me say it," I growled, the hand against the wall curling into a fist.  
  
"We could help you if you let us."  
  
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment and dropping me head to look at the ground.  
  
"Get out, you filthy little mud blood," I said coldly to her, raising my head to look coldly at her. "Before I send you off to see your parents."  
  
Hermione looked shocked for a moment before a single tear fell down her cheek. She sobbed, then lifted a hand and slapped me hard across the face.  
  
"Bastard," She muttered before apparating out of the room. I stood there for a moment before turning and walking towards my bed. I collapsed onto it and pulled the blanket over my head, burying my face into the mattress. I couldn't get back to sleep, I knew that already. If I went back to sleep I'd have that same dream again and I couldn't stand to see Emilee looking like that. God, I wish she was still here…  
  
I heard the door open and I feigned sleep. Footsteps sounded across the floor as someone walked in my direction and stopped next to my bed.  
  
"She's down there crying," I heard Ginny's voice tell me. "Ron gets home in about half-an-hour, and when he sees her he'll want to kill you."  
  
"I hope he does," I told her, rolling over and looking at her silhouette through the blanket. "I'd have done it myself, but I'm afraid I made a promise."  
  
"Well," Ginny sighed. "Sorry, but I'm gonna make sure you live until you apologize to her, so I'll prevent Ron from apparating up here. The others won't attack you, but they'll give you that 'apologize-now' look, so I suggest you don't go down there until tomorrow."  
  
"Whatever," I sighed, rolling back over. I heard Ginny turn and walk to the door.  
  
"She was right about one thing," Ginny said over her shoulder. "We _could_ help you if you let us."  
  
There was a moment of silence before I heard the sound of a door closing.  
  
I lay there for two hours before I finally stirred. Like Ginny had said, after half-an-hour I heard loud shouting coming from downstairs, but that stopped after ten minutes or so. I slowly rolled over and kicked off the blankets, sitting up and looking down at my bag. I got up and crouched down next to it, reaching in and digging to the very bottom. If Daisy knows me at all she knew what I would want packed. Sure enough, when I reached the bottom I finally felt the three pictures I wanted. I pulled them to the top of my bag but only removed one and held it in front of me, waving a hand to light a few more candles so I could see it better.  
  
This one picture was of me, Emilee, and her parents, Damion and Marie. It was taken in sixth year, only months before Damion and Marie were killed. Me and Emilee were off to the right, while Damion and Marie were on the left. Emilee had jumped on my back for the picture, and she was smiling at the camera while the me in the photo was complaining at her over my shoulder although a smile played across my face as well. Every now and then she would look down at me and bite my ear or something else to get me to be quiet for a while. On the other side, Damion and Marie were faking a ballroom dance. I leaned the picture closer to me and looked at the man who was, in fact, my father. Now that I looked at him, I really _could_ see a resemblance. It was little things, really. The shape of my nose and chin, and we had the same hands. That, and we seemed to have the same eyes…that gray color that seemed silver more often than not. The only thing different about us was the hair. He had black hair while mine was pale, like my mother. Emilee looked more like Marie than Damion, though. She had her mothers eyes, though no one could figure out where her pale hair came from, since Marie had red hair. I looked at the picture for a few more minutes before putting it on the bed and lifting up another one from the bag. This one was recent, only taken four or five months ago. It was just of me and Emilee, both of us leaning back against a fence with our arms and feet crossed. We weren't looking at the camera, since we had been talking to each other and didn't know the photo was being taken. Even the two of us in the photo were still talking, except we had moved so we were sitting on the fence. I moved this one onto the bed as well before picking the final photo up from the bag. This one was…my mother. It was taken many years ago when she was only twenty, before she had met Lucius and before I was even thought of. She looked…happy in this picture, which is why I always kept it with me. I had only seen her smile a handful of times throughout my life, always when it was only the two of us together. In this picture though, she was standing alone in a garden, a gentle smile playing across her lips. A light breeze caused the leaves behind her to move slowly along with it, and sent my mother's hair flying sideways along with them. She had her hand up near her face, constantly pushing her hair back away from her face. She laughed every now and then and tossed her head, shyly looking at the camera. Of course, I couldn't hear her laugh since photographs, no matter how magical, don't make sound, but I could hear it clearly in my head. Odd, yes, but slightly comforting to me. I placed this one on the bed along with the other two before standing and stretching slightly. I looked down at the three photos before picking them up and placing them gently under my pillow. I stood still for a moment before collapsing down upon the bed. I felt my eyes grow heavy, but I tried to fight off the sleep. I knew what would happen if I let Morpheus take me, and I didn't want to see Emilee like that again. It proved useless though. I hadn't had a decent nights sleep in a month, so I was tired. I fell asleep within the hour.  
  
I woke up ten hours later, drenched in cold sweat. I was right about having the same dream about Emilee. I resisted heading towards the light for as long as I could, but after a while I knew I -had- to see her, so I walked up. Even after I saw her I tried just closing my eyes and not looking at her, but I couldn't even do that. So after blood had poured out of her mouth and I screamed, I woke up at midnight to the pitch blackness of the room I shared with Potter. I waved a hand and a single candle light up, the dim light casting wavering shadows across the room. I stood shakily and walked to the door, glancing back at Potter's sleeping form before opening the door and walking out into the hallway. I waved a hand to extinguish the candle before closing the door silently behind me and heading down for the kitchen. I _definitely_ wasn't going back to sleep now, so I figured I might as well get something to eat now then wait until everyone else woke up so I wouldn't have to face them.  
  
My efforts proved to all be in vain when I got down to the kitchen and found someone sitting on top of the table with a bowl of cold cereal in their hand. I could see tell who it was by the light of a single lighted candle on the center of the table.  
  
"Good morning," Hermione said coolly, not lifting her eyes from the bowl held tightly in her hands. "What're you doing up?"  
  
"Nightmare," I replied, taking a few steps forward and sitting down in the chair next to her legs. "What about you?"  
  
"Insomnia," She said through bites.  
  
"Lucky you," I muttered glumly, looking up at her through my shade of hair.  
  
"Same nightmare?" She asked, glancing down at me.  
  
I nodded slightly and slumped my body over my thighs, wrapping my arms around my knees and putting my head down to rest on my arms. I stayed like that for a moment until I felt a cold hand on the back of my neck. I jerked up and looked sideways at Hermione, who had her eyes focused on the back of my neck.  
  
"Stay still," She muttered, setting the empty bowl down next to her and reaching forward again with both hands, turning my head slightly and lifting the hair that covered the back of my neck to reveal the tattoo of the two dragons.  
  
"'D and E?'" She asked, removing her hand and resting her elbows on her knees. "I'm sure I know who 'D' is, but who's 'E?'"  
  
"Remember that cousin I told you about?" I said slowly. "The one who I would have died for?"  
  
"Yeah," Hermione replied softly. "Emilee?"  
  
I nodded and dropped my head again.  
  
"You wanna talk about it?" She asked coldly. "Or will I not understand it?"  
  
"Sorry about that," I muttered. "Do not approach me when I'm mad or you'll get the brunt of my anger."  
  
"Apology accepted," Hermione said, her voice a little less cold. "But seriously, do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"What's there to talk about?" I said with a sharp laugh. "One of the few people to ever truly love me in my short, but very anguished life died three months ago and the last one died yesterday--"  
  
I stopped when my voice broke. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes but stopped them before they could fall. I had never cried in front of anyone but Mother and Emilee, and I sure as hell wasn't going to start now. Hermione gently slipped down to the seat her feet were resting on so she sat next to me. She cautiously put her arm around my shoulders and looked silently down at me. I bit my lower lip and clenched my fists, suppressing my emotions like I had been for my entire life. But, I had only been hiding my emotions for my entire life in preparation for the place of power I would hold as one of the Dark Lords followers. Thus, did I _really_ need to use the talent now that I was certainly _not_ going to be a Death Eater? It had been quite a useful talent over the years, although it had made me quite reclusive. But if I _was_ going to come out of this comfortable little shell, did I really want to do it in front of this particular person? This girl that I had hated _so_ thoroughly for eight years of my life. This girl that was now trying to consol me even after I had said possibly the harshly insult I probably could have thrown at her at this moment in time…  
  
My emotions got the better of me however, and within seconds the tears were falling freely from my eyes. She was still for a moment before pulling me into a hug and letting me cry on her shoulder. I resisted for a moment before simply letting go as I had the night before. She was silent and let me cry, her head resting softly on me shoulder. I thanked her for this act. I thanked her more than she would ever know.A/N: Wow, that took me a long time to write…But hey, there it is. Yet again, not in a very good mood. Tobers, I hope your Mom lets you off ultra-heavy-duty lockdown so you can catch up on your reading, because if you don't I will hurt you. Severely. With a spoon, if you remember my threat correctly. But anyway, please review and Chapter 6 will be out…soon? I have six projects due and a social life (finally…), so gimme a break. But yeah, review. And good day to you all. 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Whoa! Sorry for the lack of updates, but I'm writing a play for Drama, I have like…4 projects due, and school just really, really sucks. Except for my friends of course. They kick ass. But here's chapter six. Love it, LOVE IT I SAY!!!!! Please?  
  
Draco Angor

Chapter 6

----  
  
Hermione and I sat in the living room, neither of us making a sound or making eye contact with the other. A slight awkwardness had been hanging in the air between us since the tears had stopped trailing down my face. So, now we were simply sitting in the empty room, the only sound coming from the faint fire in the fireplace. The silence was understandable, of course. What _could_ you say to someone when you had just spent an hour crying on their shoulder? So we let the silence hang there, neither one of us willing to shatter it. Then again, we didn't have to. Someone else did it for us.  
  
"What're you two doing up?" Potter said from the doorway. He had apparently just woken up, for his hair was still disheveled and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. He still wore the crimson pajama bottoms he slept in, but he had added an oversized black shirt to his outfit as well. Hermione looked up at Potter from her spot on the overly stuffed chair while I simply glanced up at him before shifting my gaze back to my knees.  
  
"Insomnia," Hermione answered for us both with a shrug. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. "What time is it?"  
  
"A little after three, maybe?" Potter replied. He looked down at his wrist as if expecting a watch to be there, but shook his head when he realized there was none. "Around there."  
  
He let out a yawn before turning his head slightly and looking towards the kitchen.  
  
"I'll be in there," He said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at his destination. "You two do whatever you were doing."  
  
He turned and left, leaving Hermione and I alone again with nothing but the crackling of the weak fire filling the room.  
  
"So does he have insomnia too?" I finally spoke up. The sound seemed to startle Hermione for a moment, who had been looking at the fire with a pensive look on her face.  
  
"I don't think so," She replied, sitting back down in her chair before pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. "He has nightmares, but he usually wakes up pretty early anyway."  
  
She smiled slightly before resting her chin on her knees. She stayed in that position for a moment before she yawned and began to shake slightly from cold. She lifted her head and looked around, her eyes settling on a blanket that lay next to me on the couch. She stood and crossed the room swiftly before grabbing the green blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. Instead of walking back to her place on the chair, however, she sat down next to me on the couch. I lifted my gaze a bit and looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She was sitting in her previous position with her knees drawn up, turned towards me with her gaze turned towards the fire. She held either end of the blanket in her hands and crossed her arms, thus covering all of her lower body and most of her arms. She leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. I fully turned my head towards her and opened my mouth, intending to thank her for her gesture of kindness earlier, but I couldn't bring myself. My pride wouldn't allow it. So, I just turned my gaze back to my knees and listened as Hermione's breathing became level. This went on for another half hour before Hermione let out a sigh in her sleep and slowly tipped herself in my direction until she was cuddled up to my side. A look of surprise appeared on my face before I moved my arm and allowed her to get even closer. I turned my head and looked down at her sleeping form. Her arms were curled up next to my side while her face rested against my shoulder. I didn't want to leave her there, so I carefully slipped one arm around her back and the other under her legs, standing and picking her up when I did so. I gently shifted her when I stood so she wouldn't wake and tried to think of where her room was. I knew she and Ginny slept in two rooms next to each other which were joined by a bathroom on the second floor, but I hadn't seen it and I barely knew where it was. As I was trying to pinpoint the location of her room, Hermione shifted again in her sleep, so her ear rested just over my heart. It took me two minutes to figure out where her room was, but when I had the location pictured in my head I quickly apparated up to it, taking Hermione along with me.  
  
Her room was about the size of the one Potter and I shared, the only light filtering through a large window on the west wall. The dim moonlight cast an eerie glow about the place, causing the shadows to grow and contort. I walked over to the bed and set Hermione gently down upon the white sheets. I removed my arms and stood over the teenager as she rolled over onto her side and placed her arm underneath her head. I stood there for a few moments, simply looking down at the girl before I leaned forward and softly kissed her cheek before lifting my head slightly and whispering two simple words into her ear:  
  
"Thank you."  
  
I took a step backwards and stopped for a moment next to the window, looking outside at the snow-covered landscape and allowing a small smile to cross my face before I apparated out of the room and back into my own.  
  
--  
  
Only moments after Draco had apparated out of the room, Hermione sat up in her bed and looked towards the window, a slight smile playing across her face. She pulled the green blanket closer to her and fell back down onto the sheets, lifting a hand and pressing it against her cheek.  
  
"You're welcome," She whispered, before she rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face into her blanket, falling into a peaceful sleep within minutes.  
  
--  
  
I landed in a sitting position on the large couch in the living room. I sat still for a moment before getting up and crossing the hall to the kitchen. Potter sat at the table, a bottle of butterbeer sitting on the table before him. His gaze shifted to me for a moment before it slipped back to the drink in front of him. I crossed the room and sat down across from my former classmate. We sat in silence for ten minutes before Potter spoke up.  
  
"D'you want one?" He asked softly, gesturing at his butterbeer.  
  
I shook my heads slightly.  
  
"You sure?" He asked again. "They wake you up a bit."  
  
I shook my head again. He sighed and shrugged.  
  
"Fine," He muttered, taking a swig from the bottle.  
  
We sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he, yet again, decided to speak.  
  
"I can get you a potion that can stop your nightmares," He said, glancing up at me from under his shaggy bangs.  
  
"From where?" I asked, my voice wavering a bit. To tell the truth, I wasn't even sure if I _wanted_ the dream gone or not. Part of me felt like I…deserved it. Like I had done a horrible evil, and this was my punishment. I know in reality I probably hadn't (except for the childish comments at school, of course), but I couldn't help but feel that way.  
  
"Hermione makes me a batch every now and then," Potter replied. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind making some for you as well."  
  
I was silent for a moment as I contemplated my options. I could take the potion and get rid of my dreams, thus finally being able to find peace in my sleep. However, if I took this route, I knew that I would feel as if I was taking the easy way out, thus making myself feel even worse than if I had not taken the potion at all. On the other hand, though, I could _not_ take the potion, choosing to remain in a constant state of waking sleep, frightened of the night and hiding from the day. And yet, I would feel justified in doing so, as if I was one step closer to gaining absolution for the sins I must have surely committed. So I had the choices of redemption through pain, or pain through hiding.  
  
"No," I sighed. "I'll live with them."  
  
Redemption had won for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Small steps, I suppose. Small steps…

----  
A/N: Wow…I'm done…Sorry it took so long. As I said, school…and my friend has been over every weekend for the past two months or so, and that's when I usually write. She and I even put out a story! If you like Peter Pan, read it. It'll be interesting…in later chapters at least…But anyway, I'll get the next chapter out…eventually. Sorry. With testing, Beta Club, drama plays, and the National Honors Society, I find NO TIME to write. I can't even work on the book I'm writing…I haven't written in in in months, which sucks…But review please. I love reviews…reviews are niiiiiice….Have a good day! Bye bye!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Holy shit, I haven't updated since OCTOBER! Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to…FORGIVE ME! WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-okay, I'm done. Oh, and to clear things up, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are 19, Draco is about to turn 19, and Ginny is 18. Hope that helps a tad. Now read, love, review…you know the drill.  
-  
Draco Angor

Chapter 7

-

Two days. I hadn't slept for TWO DAYS…I had been attempting to keep in constant motion to keep myself awake, but it wasn't working. I sometimes just lost my energy and fell to the floor. I knew that I should probably not be affected that much, but as I said, I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a month, so it was more like I had been awake for a solid week that simply two days…

I think I was starting to see hallucinations too…unless the green monkey dancing upside down in the corner was real…

At the moment, I was lying on the living room floor. I had gotten to the point where I had stuck my knuckle in my mouth and bit down on it whenever I felt myself drifting off, but I don't think it was working quite well...I was looking at the ceiling, seeing shapes move in the cracked wood when Hermione's face suddenly appeared in my vision.

"Hullo," I said, the lack-of-sleep invading my voice and making me sound like I was drugged. "How're you?"

"Better than you're going to be," She said, a solemn look on her face. She suddenly pulled a large bucket out from behind her back and tossed it over me, drenching me thoroughly with cold water.

"Shit!" I yelled, sitting up straight. "That wasn't necessary, you know!"

Hermione just let out a small laugh, her eyes twinkling, before looking up towards the doorway.

"How's that, Headmaster?" She asked.

"You know you don't have to call me that anymore, Miss Granger," The voice of Albus Dumbledore said from behind me. I turned around and sure enough, there was the old Headmaster standing in the doorway. I felt a faint blush rise to my face when I realized I had uttered a swear word in front of a highly regarded member of the wizarding community, but the blush went away as quickly as it had come when the sleepiness reappeared.

"So whadda you want?" I asked, letting out a yawn.

"I have some business at Saint Mungos," The Headmaster replied. "Since I know you four usually have no one here at this time of the day, I wondered if you all would join me."

"Mungos," I said, letting out a sleepy chuckle. "I don't like Mungos…"

"I'm sure it would keep you awake," Dumbledore replied. "And the other three have already agreed to come with me."

I really didn't want to go, but if I was in the house alone I knew I would fall asleep within minutes, if not sooner. So, with a groan, I lifted myself up off the ground and stood for a moment, swaying slightly before I regained my balance.

"Fine then?" I sighed, shrugging slightly. "Why not?"

"We'll be waiting for you in the kitchen then," Dumbledore said with a smile, turning around and walking towards the kitchen. Hermione began to follow him, and I apparated up to my room for a quick change of clothes. I apparated down to the kitchen when I was done, where Dumbledore, Hermione, Potter and Ginny were waiting, sitting standing silently in front of the fireplace.

"Ready then?" Potter asked, standing up with Ginny following a moment afterwards.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, nodding with a small smile crossing his face. "Just apparate to the front lobby."

We nodded and all apparated one-by-one to Saint Mungos. Then, in the blink of an eye, I was back in one of the few places I _really_ didn't like. But, there I was, surrounded by the sick and injured. And the other people just _there_ for no purpose at all. Hermione, Ginny, Potter, and I all looked to Dumbledore, waiting to see which way he would go. He began walking down a hallway, and we all followed, staying close behind him. I lowered my gaze to the floor, keeping Hermione's feet within sight so I would know when we needed to stop. I went into my trance-like state, not really thinking of anything at all until Hermione suddenly stopped. I stopped as well before I ran into her and looked up, then turned my gaze to Dumbledore before finally looking up and down the hallway. We were standing in front of a room with two healers waiting in front of the door. One of them stepped forward and shook Dumbledore's hand before speaking.

"I'm Healer Taye," He said, taking a step back. "I'm glad you could come. This girl really needs your help."

"I hope you don't mind if I bring a few guests?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

"Of course not," Healer Taye replied. "Now come this way."

He took a step towards the door, and I realized it had a rather large lock on it. Taye unlocked the door and opened it cautiously, taking a tentative step inside. We followed, and walked into a room dimly lit by only one candle. I was able to see a single bed against the right wall, and a single occupant in the bed. I couldn't make out any of the features of the girl, though. It was too dark.

"This is her," Healer Taye whispered. "Don't get too close to the bed, please. She's dangerous."

A clinking of metal on metal was heard from the bed as the girl shifted around slightly, and we were able to see thick chains connecting her wrists and angles on each corresponding metal corner of the bed.

"You chained her?" Dumbledore asked, his voice displaying slight shock.

"We had to," Healer Taye responded. "She nearly killed one of our other Healers."

Another sound came from the girl, this one sounding more of a cry of pain. Healer Taye frowned and took a few steps forward until he was four feet away from the bed. Then, with a great roar, the girl somehow ripped her chains off the bed while keeping them wrapped around her wrists, lunged forward, and threw her hand forward towards the Healer. The chains flew forward and wrapped around Healer Taye's neck as the girl jumped at him and landed on his chest, forcing him down onto his back as his hands went up to the chain wrapped around his neck. As the girl jumped forward, she traveled into the light and I was finally able to see her face. She wore a black blindfold around her eyes and her hair was chopped off to her shoulders, but I would know her anywhere.

"Emilee…" I whispered.

-

I apparated into Malfoy Manor, quietly but quickly making my way into the living room where my father waited. A fire was roaring in the fireplace, making the dark, stifled room feel like a desert. I broke out in a sweat as I stepped through the doors and waited a few feet behind the spot where Lucius stood, awaiting my arrival. He didn't even turn as I walked up. His still faced the fire, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You wanted to talk to me?" I asked him, cautiously.

"Yes," He replied. "I have something to tell you."

"Yes…" I prodded after a minute of silence.

"Emilee's dead," He stated coldly.

"Wh…What?" I asked in disbelief, my legs feeling like they would collapse beneath me.

"Her house was found destroyed with the Dark Mark hovering over it," He stated, his voice still in monotone. "Her body wasn't found in the rubble, but she's most likely dead."

"The Dark Mark?" I said faintly. "But…but you're the leader of the Deatheaters…"

"And…?" He asked coldly.

The realization hit me like cold water thrown in my face.

"You had her killed," I stated, feeling the fury rising through me, nearly drowning out the grief.

"Yes," He replied. "I did."

I let out a roar and lunged at his turned back. I was strong, but I still wasn't as strong as Lucius. He grabbed my extended arm and twisted it behind my back while kicking my legs out from under me, forcing me down onto my knees.

"Why?" I asked, tears trailing down my cheeks. It was the only question I could ask. Why had he killed one of the only people I had ever loved? Why? Why? WHY?

"'Why?'" He mocked with a cruel laugh. "'Why,' you ask? I did it because she was betraying us, straying away from the Dark Arts. Going behind our backs to contact traitors like Snape and giving information to that old bastard Dumbledore. And still you ask me 'why?'"

He twisted my arm and I felt the bones straining, threatening to snap like twigs.

"I did it to protect our friends and family. Don't you understand, Draco?"

"She _was_ our family," I growled. As punishment, Lucius twisted my arm even more and I heard the bone break. I let out a strangled yell as Lucius let me go.

"When you betray the family," He spat. "Then you're not part of it anymore, now are you?"

I didn't answer, and instead apparated up to my room, landing on the floor. I pulled my knees up to my chest while cradling my broken arm and let the tears fall freely down my face. I heard the door open after a few minutes, and my mother walked in. She didn't say anything, and instead simply sat down on the floor next to me and cradled me as I cried.  
-

Emilee froze when she heard her name and snapped her head up in my direction. Her jaw dropped open slightly as she picked herself up from the floor. Healer Taye got up quickly and backed away from Emilee, walking backwards until he was pressed against the wall. I, however, took a few steps forward until I stood before my sister. Her face was angled up towards me, and she seemed to be able to see me through the blindfold. We stood in silence for a moment before she let out a struggled sob and threw her arms around my stomach, enveloping me in a tight hug. I hugged her back, a few tears falling down my cheeks and dropping into her hair.

"He told me you were dead," I told her softy.

"I'm not," She replied hoarsely, letting out a small chuckle.

We pulled away from our hug, but I kept a strong hold on her upper arms.

"I missed you," I said, a smile now plastered across my face.

Emilee opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped herself. A questioning look passed over her face for a moment, then a small smile placed itself on her face. She replied with three simple words:

"Happy Birthday, Draco."

-

A/N: I know, it's short, but look! I have a new character to torment-er…shower with happiness and joy…heh…yes…Hopefully it won't take me so long to get the next chapter up, but I can't make any promises. School bites. Have a nice day, though. Reviews are nice, by the way. In case you didn't know.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I know, I know, I haven't updated in a long-ass time…I'M SORRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!…But here's Chapter 8! Unfortunately, Chapter 9 won't be coming for a while yet…but hang in there. And just so you know…HBP didn't happen in this one…so yeahhh…Until next time, shower me with reviews. P   
----   
Draco Angor   
Chapter 8   
---- 

Emilee and I stood there staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, when we knew in reality it was only a few moments at best. I don't think we would have ever had go had Dumbledore not cleared his throat. This wasn't just my cousin, she was my _sister_. One of the few people in my fucked-up life that actually gave a shit about whether I was alive or dead. Well…**the** only one now that Mother was…

Dumbledore cleared his throat again and Emilee and I pulled away. 

"What?" Emilee asked, turning her head towards the former Headmaster. 

I had to stifle the laugh in my throat at her rudeness. Emilee wasn't one to bite her tongue for anyone, former Headmasters or not. Dumbledore didn't look all that thrown off, amazingly. Actually, he smiled. 

"I have heard you have information on the rise of the new Dark Lord," Dumbledore said to her. "I need to know if this rumor is true, and if so, I need the information." 

Emilee raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah," She says. "I have information. **But**…" 

"But?" Dumbledore asked. 

"But I can't recall right now," She shrugged and tapped her forehead. "It's there. Locked away. I just can't remember." 

Dumbledore sighed and there was an awkward silence hanging in the air for a tense moment. 

"Is that all?" Emilee asked. "Are you going to leave me here to rot now?" 

She raised her arms in a half-shrug and I heard the chains still hanging off them hit the tile on the ground. I winced at the sharp sound. 

Dumbledore looked at her for a moment, before turning to Healer Taye, who had gotten up off of the floor and was now standing in the corner rubbing his neck. 

"How much longer does she have to stay here?" Dumbledore asked the healer. 

Healer Taye looked from Emilee, to me, to Dumbledore. 

"If you have a place for her to go, she can leave," He said finally. 

"But I don't have a place to go," Emilee replied with a sigh. 

"Actually…" Dumbledore looked at Potter with the question on his face. Potter looked at Emilee and I, and I saw something resembling pain flash across his eyes before he nodded slightly. 

"The Potter Inn, at your service," He said with a slight smile. 

"Well then," I smiled, looking down at Emilee. "Off we go." 

-- 

An hour later I apparated up to the room I shared with Potter, Emilee by my side. She wavered slightly when we hit the ground, but caught her balance and took a step forward. 

"I hate apparating," She muttered. 

I laughed. 

"Well you can't rightly use a broom, can you?" I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. 

She replied by sticking out her tongue and we laughed again. 

"So what am I supposed to wear?" Emilee asked after a moment of silence, looking down at her dingy clothing. 

"Um…" I thought about it for a minute. "I could ask Hermione if you could borrow some of her clothes? You two looked about the same size…" 

"Okay," She replied with a nod. "But while you do that is it okay if I go take a shower?" 

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards the bathroom. 

"Yeah," I said with a laugh. "Unless you **want** to walk around smelling like the inside of Weasel's socks." 

She hit me on the shoulder with a laugh before turning and walking into the bathroom. I waited until the door was closed and locked before I turned and walked out of the bedroom and up the stairs towards Hermione's room. I reached the threshold and yawned before knocking on the door. 

"Come in!" I heard Hermione call out from inside the room. I reached forward and walked in to find her sitting on her bed with a book resting on her lap and her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun. 

"Hi," She said, glancing up and seeing it was me. 

"Hullo," I replied, leaning against the doorframe as a wave of sleep hit me. 

"You okay?" She asked me, closing the book and putting it on her nightstand. 

"Yeah…uh…" I blinked and shook my head a bit, trying to wake myself up. "I just need a favor…" 

"What d'you need?" Hermione asked, getting up and walking to stand in front of me. 

"Clothes for Emilee," I replied, "Can she borrow some of yours?" 

"Of course," Hermione replied with a warm smile, walking over to a wardrobe tucked in the corner and throwing open the doors. She stood rifling through her clothes for a few minutes before coming back with a few shirts, about four pairs of jeans, and a pair of black and white Converse. 

"She can borrow these for a while," Hermione said, handing them to me. "We can head off to Diagon Alley one day soon so she can get her own." 

"Okay," I replied with another yawn. "Thanks, Hermione." 

"You're welcome, Draco," She smiled at me. "Now please go get some sleep. You look just about ready to drop." 

I nodded while stifling a yawn and started back down the hallway while Hermione shut her door. 

I got back into my room and found Emilee curled up on the end of the bed wearing a pair of my pajama pants and one of my old shirts. The blindfold she was wearing was clutched in her right hand while her left arm lay across her eyes. 

"Hey," She said when I closed the door behind me. 

"Hey," I said, walking over to the bed and setting the clothes down on top of my bag before sitting down next to her. 

She yawned and stretched her arms out. 

"I'm sleepy," She said. 

"Me too…" I replied, stifling a yawn with my hand. 

"Hn…" She reached up with her left hand and rubbed her eye with a grimace of pain of her face. 

"Ouchhhhhhh," She muttered when she pulled her hand back, a line of blood on her hand. 

"What in the hell happened to your eyes?" I asked her as she wiped the blood on my pants. 

She was silent for a moment before opening her eyes. I winced when I saw them. 

It looked like all of the blood vessels in her eyes had broken, leaving seas of red with pools of pale green in the middle. A single drop of blood formed at the corner of the eye she had scratched before falling down her pale cheek. I reached out instinctively and wiped it away, smearing the crimson on her white skin. 

"What happened?" I whispered again. She shrugged before folding her arms over her stomach. 

"Don't make me talk about it now, Draco," She replied quietly, dropping her gaze to the ground. I sighed, but nodded before stepping forward and hugging her. She was shaking. 

"I missed you, brother," She whispered after a moment. 

_Brother_…The word seemed natural, like we had known all along that we weren't just cousins. We had fooled others when we were little, telling them we were brother and sister, twins, even, though she was nearly a year my junior. We passed it off well, though. We reached a point where we could finish each other's sentences, where we could just glance at one another and know exactly what the other was thinking and feeling, we could talk about anything and everything for hours on end…She was the only person in the world I would jump in front of a Killing Curse for, and when I heard she was dead half of me died, too. But somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it couldn't be true…I would've felt it if she had died…we were just that close…so I always had that hope. That one little bit of hope in me, the pinprick of light in a sea of jet black. And here it was, the light had turned into a beacon and flooded out all of the darkness that had invaded my heart and mind…or at least most of it. It still hurt to think of my mother…it still hurt to think of all the death in my family…of all of the evil populating my ancestors…their blind love for a being so evil that the very ground he walked upon cursed his existence…And the few of us that had denied loving him, who had said no, had been killed. Now the only ones left were Emilee and I. We were the only "good" ones in the entire family. We weren't saints, by any account. I know I was a right git in Hogwarts. Hell, I was the scourge of the school, trying my damnest to ruin the lives of some of the students. That was Lucius's fault, mainly. I know that, but it's still no excuse. I was horrible. I still don't know how the Weasley's, Potter, and Hermione could just seem to forget all of the pain I forced on them and let me into their house…but I was glad they did…After all, where else did I have to go? 

The door opened and Potter walked it yawning and rubbing his eye under his glasses. Emilee turned her head quickly and put on the blindfold before Potter could see her eyes. Potter stopped and looked at the two of us. 

"We don't have a bed set up for you yet," Potter said to Emilee. "But you can sleep in my bed if you want. I can just sleep on the couch." 

"No," Emilee replied. "It's okay…I can share the bed with Draco. We've done it before. You can keep yours." 

Potter shrugged. 

"Alright," He said with a nod before kicking off his shoes and climbing into his bed, pulling the blankets up to his waist and burying his face into his pillow. He was still for a moment before sitting up and pulling his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand before settling back into his position. 

"Blow out the candles when you go to sleep," He said to us, his voice muffled by the pillow. 

"Sure," I replied, waving a hand and putting out half of the candles. 

Emilee yawned and left my side, going to lay down on the bed. 

"I'm going to sleep," She said, crawling under the covers. I let out a laugh before I laid down next to her on top of the covers. 

"Night," She muttered. 

"Night," I yawned back, raising a hand to extinguish the rest of the candles before falling into a dreamless sleep…   
----   
A/N: And there's the next chapter…it's not as long as it should be, I know. Sorry for not updating in so long…Shit happens, though, yeah? Anyway…yeah…click the button…hearts to you peoples and have a nice day. Bai bai now. D 


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